"But the end of growth does not necessarily mean the end of the machine." Paul, I'm one of Albert Borgmann's last students. In a very small corner of the world, Albert is considered the greatest living philosopher of technology, and, with characteristic wit, he makes precisely this argument, critiquing much doomsday writing as the "unw…
"But the end of growth does not necessarily mean the end of the machine." Paul, I'm one of Albert Borgmann's last students. In a very small corner of the world, Albert is considered the greatest living philosopher of technology, and, with characteristic wit, he makes precisely this argument, critiquing much doomsday writing as the "unwarranted optimism of the pessimist." The pessimist believes that the culture of technology (or Machine) is doomed for collapse but optimistically believes that a phoenix will rise from the ashes. Both their optimism and, in some sense, their pessimism is unwarranted. The rationality behind technology--where all things are turned into objects to be put to use--precludes grasping its failures; for it can only understand failure technically as a problem to fix (through objective reasoning). Therefore, the pessimist is wrong; there is no "collapse" only glitches (from the perspective of the techno-citizen). Thus the optimism of the pessimist can never be realized; for, even if there is a collapse, the rationality will remain. In fact, it will grow more powerful because that will be the only thing we "know" and therefore the only thing to which we can turn to "solve" the collapse. It is a totalizing horizon.
For this reason among others, Borgmann argues for reform, not revolution, through what he calls focal things and practices. Matthew Crawford (mentioned above in others comments) draws directly from Borgmann to wrestle with this. Focal things are like a violin (or motorcycle) around which a practice and then a community arises all of which together inculcate what he calls "commanding reality" which counters the "disposable reality" of the Machine. I could go on, but I won't because I need to finish my sermon and then work on this dissertation for him before my wife kills me for not getting home tonight...
If this strikes your interest for your continued research, I suggest "Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life", "Holding onto Reality" and "Power Failure" (his book specific to a Christian audience).
I very much appreciate your voice and your efforts, and I pray, really and truly, that more and more listen and do likewise. Peace be with you, Paul.
Thanks William. I'd not heard of Borgmann, so this is interesting to hear. I will explore further.
Some of it sounds not dissimilar to the ideas of Lewis Mumford, who I wrote about earlier in this series; especially the notion that the 'myth of the Machine' precedes its construction. Jacques Ellul similarly called this 'technique', and suggested it was a drive inherent in people which would rise and fall according to circumstance. So I agree that, for example, a lack of coal or oil would not lead to a Machine-free world. Past societies had an alternative fuel source - slaves.
I would differ on 'reform not revolution' however. I like Crawford, and I very much agree with that approach. Bring it on! But I'm not sure it is so much 'reform' as escape. I don't think the Machine can be reformed, because it has its own drive. Revolution, whatever that would look like, won't unseat it either.
And I am maybe a bit more optimistic about the Phoenix scenario. Not that I think we are wise enough to learn from our mistakes, but a grinding-down of the control system through lack of resources, if it happens, would at least create space for other ways of living and seeing to flourish again. But I suppose we shall see ...
Thanks for writing back Paul. It is a pleasure to converse with you and the folks here. Borgmann's call to reform is based not on his philosophical but theological convictions, though that only becomes explicit in "Power Failure", the one book he wrote for a Christian audience. Borgmann's reform rests on Christian hope rather than philosophical optimism. It runs like this.
As you analytically detail here and imaginatively in "Alexandria", the Machine's aims are totalizing, and we can grant it the respect to say that it is well within its power to realize its aims. Kurzweil or Zuckerberg's wildest dreams are no dreams at all but a coming reality. Therefore, there is no escape. From a philosophical and political standpoint, despair is warranted for neither reform nor escape is possible. This is, as I said before, a totalizing horizon, a fathomless abyss, and we stand at the edge of its precipice now.
For this reason, Borgmann points to his focal things and practices, the paradigmatic thing and practice being the Eucharist. Focal things and practices to be as such stand outside technology (or the Machine) for they cannot be turned into an object for mastery and use. We do not master or use the Eucharist. We receive it as a gift of grace. It is outside of our will and will to power. So it goes for a guitar. Or an onion on the kitchen counter. It is true that the guitar and its player and the onion and its cook can turn into Spotify and McDonalds, but when we practice them, they remain themselves as things to command our attention and shine a light of grace in the abyss. We stand in grace when we hear dad play the guitar, even as the machine hums around us. We are blessed when we dine together over mom's roasted onions and carrots, even after we had Starbucks on the way home from work. They, the guitar and the onion, cannot be turned by the Machine into objects to be put to use.
This is most powerfully true in the Eucharist for it is impossible to turn the Eucharist into a commodity to be disposed (though we tried our best with indulgences in the medieval era). It is this impervious grace that cannot be turned in which Borgmann grounds his hope for it is, finally, a hope in God and not in man. Borgmann's reformation hopes in Christ, the creator of all things, who will, so we hope, resurrect and redeem this broken Machine in the fullness of time. He will save us from ourselves. So, as you quoted Saint Selywn in a podcast I heard the other day, "Keep your mind in hell, and despair not."
I myself have been persuaded by this good news. Like you, I was an atheist in my late teens and into my twenties after being severely educated by my culture. I was a Peace Corps Volunteer (I'm an American) in Paraguay living in a jungle village that, at the time, remained outside the grips of the Machine. No running water. Intermittent electricity. It was, I realize now, focal things and practices all day long. During the day, I planted, hoed, and harvested by hand with my friends. In the evening, I learned to cook after years of feeding myself on fast food. At night, I pondered the Milky Way in its fullest expression, and from those stars, God struck me as a thunderbolt. I know that sounds crazy, and it is. But that's how it happened. The universe vibrated with God, electric currents surrounded me as a womb, and I lost my fear of death as I surrendered to those currents to be born again. I believed, and I was liberated.
Well, coming back into the Machine after something like that was soul-crushing. I took up my former despair. I drank too much and did too many drugs. Then, I found Albert in Missoula Montana of all places. He put it all together for me with Christ at the center, and now I'm a pastor, happily married with four kids. Who could imagine! I make this maudlin confession as a testimony to the power of God to reform, even still. Even one like me gripped by the Machine.
I have hope Paul. Real resurrection hope. And I pray that your readers, all of us, hang on to it.
That's a remarkable and powerful story, William. Thanks for sharing it. Your tale of living outside the Machine and then feeling crushed by having to return to it mirrors how I felt when I spent some time in Indonesia in the nineties, and then had to come back to London. It was like a dead weight.
What you say about the Eucharist is remarkable too. If you can recommend a Borgmann book which tackles all this I'd love to look into it.
Yes, there are some kindred spirits out there with a story that is jarring, spooky even, in its similarities. We all seem to travel the same path. As a pastor, I meet fellow travelers frequently, lost men in their thirties and forties who have finally found the way home. My job, as I understand it, is to go out and get as many as I can into the fold, as if my life depended on it.
Well, I'd go to Borgmann's "Power Failure" first. Its for the popular Christian audience and not as philosophically technical as his academic work. Most regard his "Technology and the Culture of Contemporary Life" as his great work. He left a lot to do and never quite put it altogether theologically like I was doing in the shorthand up above. That's actually what I'm up to in my own academic and sermon work under his (and others') guidance.
The really cool thing about Albert is that, even at 84, he's willing to take emails and phone calls. He is fit and trim, still chopping his own wood at his mountain home in Missoula. You can get a hold of him through the University of Montana-Missoula at albert.borgmann@umt.edu (this is his publicly available email). He is well worth a conversation. A gentle man, he settles the soul. Tell him Bill Novak recommended it and say hi for me if you do!
"But the end of growth does not necessarily mean the end of the machine." Paul, I'm one of Albert Borgmann's last students. In a very small corner of the world, Albert is considered the greatest living philosopher of technology, and, with characteristic wit, he makes precisely this argument, critiquing much doomsday writing as the "unwarranted optimism of the pessimist." The pessimist believes that the culture of technology (or Machine) is doomed for collapse but optimistically believes that a phoenix will rise from the ashes. Both their optimism and, in some sense, their pessimism is unwarranted. The rationality behind technology--where all things are turned into objects to be put to use--precludes grasping its failures; for it can only understand failure technically as a problem to fix (through objective reasoning). Therefore, the pessimist is wrong; there is no "collapse" only glitches (from the perspective of the techno-citizen). Thus the optimism of the pessimist can never be realized; for, even if there is a collapse, the rationality will remain. In fact, it will grow more powerful because that will be the only thing we "know" and therefore the only thing to which we can turn to "solve" the collapse. It is a totalizing horizon.
For this reason among others, Borgmann argues for reform, not revolution, through what he calls focal things and practices. Matthew Crawford (mentioned above in others comments) draws directly from Borgmann to wrestle with this. Focal things are like a violin (or motorcycle) around which a practice and then a community arises all of which together inculcate what he calls "commanding reality" which counters the "disposable reality" of the Machine. I could go on, but I won't because I need to finish my sermon and then work on this dissertation for him before my wife kills me for not getting home tonight...
If this strikes your interest for your continued research, I suggest "Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life", "Holding onto Reality" and "Power Failure" (his book specific to a Christian audience).
I very much appreciate your voice and your efforts, and I pray, really and truly, that more and more listen and do likewise. Peace be with you, Paul.
Thanks William. I'd not heard of Borgmann, so this is interesting to hear. I will explore further.
Some of it sounds not dissimilar to the ideas of Lewis Mumford, who I wrote about earlier in this series; especially the notion that the 'myth of the Machine' precedes its construction. Jacques Ellul similarly called this 'technique', and suggested it was a drive inherent in people which would rise and fall according to circumstance. So I agree that, for example, a lack of coal or oil would not lead to a Machine-free world. Past societies had an alternative fuel source - slaves.
I would differ on 'reform not revolution' however. I like Crawford, and I very much agree with that approach. Bring it on! But I'm not sure it is so much 'reform' as escape. I don't think the Machine can be reformed, because it has its own drive. Revolution, whatever that would look like, won't unseat it either.
And I am maybe a bit more optimistic about the Phoenix scenario. Not that I think we are wise enough to learn from our mistakes, but a grinding-down of the control system through lack of resources, if it happens, would at least create space for other ways of living and seeing to flourish again. But I suppose we shall see ...
Thanks for writing back Paul. It is a pleasure to converse with you and the folks here. Borgmann's call to reform is based not on his philosophical but theological convictions, though that only becomes explicit in "Power Failure", the one book he wrote for a Christian audience. Borgmann's reform rests on Christian hope rather than philosophical optimism. It runs like this.
As you analytically detail here and imaginatively in "Alexandria", the Machine's aims are totalizing, and we can grant it the respect to say that it is well within its power to realize its aims. Kurzweil or Zuckerberg's wildest dreams are no dreams at all but a coming reality. Therefore, there is no escape. From a philosophical and political standpoint, despair is warranted for neither reform nor escape is possible. This is, as I said before, a totalizing horizon, a fathomless abyss, and we stand at the edge of its precipice now.
For this reason, Borgmann points to his focal things and practices, the paradigmatic thing and practice being the Eucharist. Focal things and practices to be as such stand outside technology (or the Machine) for they cannot be turned into an object for mastery and use. We do not master or use the Eucharist. We receive it as a gift of grace. It is outside of our will and will to power. So it goes for a guitar. Or an onion on the kitchen counter. It is true that the guitar and its player and the onion and its cook can turn into Spotify and McDonalds, but when we practice them, they remain themselves as things to command our attention and shine a light of grace in the abyss. We stand in grace when we hear dad play the guitar, even as the machine hums around us. We are blessed when we dine together over mom's roasted onions and carrots, even after we had Starbucks on the way home from work. They, the guitar and the onion, cannot be turned by the Machine into objects to be put to use.
This is most powerfully true in the Eucharist for it is impossible to turn the Eucharist into a commodity to be disposed (though we tried our best with indulgences in the medieval era). It is this impervious grace that cannot be turned in which Borgmann grounds his hope for it is, finally, a hope in God and not in man. Borgmann's reformation hopes in Christ, the creator of all things, who will, so we hope, resurrect and redeem this broken Machine in the fullness of time. He will save us from ourselves. So, as you quoted Saint Selywn in a podcast I heard the other day, "Keep your mind in hell, and despair not."
I myself have been persuaded by this good news. Like you, I was an atheist in my late teens and into my twenties after being severely educated by my culture. I was a Peace Corps Volunteer (I'm an American) in Paraguay living in a jungle village that, at the time, remained outside the grips of the Machine. No running water. Intermittent electricity. It was, I realize now, focal things and practices all day long. During the day, I planted, hoed, and harvested by hand with my friends. In the evening, I learned to cook after years of feeding myself on fast food. At night, I pondered the Milky Way in its fullest expression, and from those stars, God struck me as a thunderbolt. I know that sounds crazy, and it is. But that's how it happened. The universe vibrated with God, electric currents surrounded me as a womb, and I lost my fear of death as I surrendered to those currents to be born again. I believed, and I was liberated.
Well, coming back into the Machine after something like that was soul-crushing. I took up my former despair. I drank too much and did too many drugs. Then, I found Albert in Missoula Montana of all places. He put it all together for me with Christ at the center, and now I'm a pastor, happily married with four kids. Who could imagine! I make this maudlin confession as a testimony to the power of God to reform, even still. Even one like me gripped by the Machine.
I have hope Paul. Real resurrection hope. And I pray that your readers, all of us, hang on to it.
That's a remarkable and powerful story, William. Thanks for sharing it. Your tale of living outside the Machine and then feeling crushed by having to return to it mirrors how I felt when I spent some time in Indonesia in the nineties, and then had to come back to London. It was like a dead weight.
What you say about the Eucharist is remarkable too. If you can recommend a Borgmann book which tackles all this I'd love to look into it.
All the best,
Paul
Yes, there are some kindred spirits out there with a story that is jarring, spooky even, in its similarities. We all seem to travel the same path. As a pastor, I meet fellow travelers frequently, lost men in their thirties and forties who have finally found the way home. My job, as I understand it, is to go out and get as many as I can into the fold, as if my life depended on it.
Well, I'd go to Borgmann's "Power Failure" first. Its for the popular Christian audience and not as philosophically technical as his academic work. Most regard his "Technology and the Culture of Contemporary Life" as his great work. He left a lot to do and never quite put it altogether theologically like I was doing in the shorthand up above. That's actually what I'm up to in my own academic and sermon work under his (and others') guidance.
The really cool thing about Albert is that, even at 84, he's willing to take emails and phone calls. He is fit and trim, still chopping his own wood at his mountain home in Missoula. You can get a hold of him through the University of Montana-Missoula at albert.borgmann@umt.edu (this is his publicly available email). He is well worth a conversation. A gentle man, he settles the soul. Tell him Bill Novak recommended it and say hi for me if you do!